


For My Eyes Only: The Forbidden Journal of Todd Anderson

by WishIWereATroubleMaker



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, High School, M/M, Neil's Alive and Well My Dudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-09 14:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishIWereATroubleMaker/pseuds/WishIWereATroubleMaker
Summary: New schools are always difficult, especially if you have a reputation before you even take a step through those front doors.Todd believed he would've heard the last of his brother Jeff once he left for college, but after graduating as valedictorian of his senior class at Welton high his parents prove otherwise. Now he's just trying to survive high school, his family, and hopefully graduate high enough in his class.That is until a certain group of boys wander into his life, most notably was Neil Perry; a boy with a heart of gold that instantly makes Todd question everything he's ever learned a human being could be. He would never tell him that, maybe that's why he started keeping this dumb journal. Besides, he only has 175 more days to deal with this and goodbye high school, hello life.





	1. Chapter 1

Day 1 / 175

Today was… eventful, to phrase it lightly. 

It started out as any morning would. I rolled out of bed and wandered downs to the bathroom. Of course, I always manage to pass Jeff's ornate piece of paper with the word "valedictorian" inscribed over top of his name. It's been well over two years since he's graduated and my parents still treat it as if it happened yesterday. While picture frame after picture frame manages to sit and collect dust, that mahogany hunk remains in pristine condition. It's difficult to miss each morning, I think they might have hung it up right between the two rooms in the hopes that some of his magical charm will rub off on me. They were always trying to get me to be like him, from baseball in elementary school to scholastic team in high school. When will they understand that I just don't get things like he does? 

My internal crisis is halted in the bathroom. I take my last break in the solitude of my own home, fully aware the second I walk into that school I wasn't going to be able to handle the pressure of a communal bathroom. Once done, I washed my hands like any civil human being before I began to brush my teeth. Looking in the mirror I see a spitting image of my mother. Why'd I have to get stuck with her bone structure? My cheeks are soft and round, my lips look like one of those Barbie dolls with how much space they took up. The one thing that wasn't hers had to be my ears, they were always a little too big for my head and hung just a little too low and the lobes. As I poke and prod at my face for any hidden blemishes, I hear that familiar shrill voice calling me from downstairs. 

"Tooooodd! Hurry and get ready, you don't want to be late your first day!" Shaking my head, I splash some water on my face before I have to make the walk of shame past the plaque a la Jeff back to my bedroom. My clothes were already hanging over the back of my desk chair, it was nothing crazy. A pair of khakis and a sweater was about as tame as it can get. It was a safe outfit, one that would keep my head on my shoulders for the rest of the day at least. As expected, I get dressed. Slipping on my sneakers, I'm already heading down the stairs. Once there I can take note of my mother still wearing her nightgown, stood in front of a stove covered in different pans of every size. For someone only cooking for three people, she can tend to go overboard. Seated in my usual seat next to my dad, I can look across the table and see the empty chair that used to serve as Jeff's spot. There were some benefits to him being gone like not having to wait for him to get done combing his hair after an hour in the morning, but there were the drawbacks. The main being the silent breakfasts. 

No one else in the family could have been a morning person, could they? 

After a typical breakfast, the basics like scrambled eggs or something, (Out of everything to remember, why do you always forget what you eat?) I have to go outside. Unlike most my age, I'm still stuck riding the bus. The thing making this extra uncomforting was the fact that I doubled as the new kid as well. With a bag slung over my shoulder, I wander to whatever empty seat I can find before plopping myself down. Watching your house disappear through the window of a dingy old bus was always the most unsettling image you could witness. It feels like I'm being drug away on a prison, instead of handcuffs I have a backpack full of useless office supplies. As expected, the ride was long and tedious. The more people got on, the more frustrated people became. It was understandable. Considering it was the middle of August and everyone is in their uncomfortable back to school clothes, crammed into an elongated tin can, we really have a right to complain. 

Getting out in front of the office door was also mildly unsettling. I was the only one who had to get off here, and being dropped off in an unknown land surrounded by alien creatures is the stuff people reserved for teen drama movies. As my eyes roamed the crowds, I noticed I was the only one not huddled up into a little group. Everyone has their own little clique of people they've probably been hanging around for years now, they had the people they were familiar with. Even if they were simply acquaintances. It took me a moment to realize, maybe they weren't the alien ones. Maybe I was. 

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Wandering up the front walkway, it felt like eyes would pull away from their conversations. I was the new spectacle, the new person to gawk at as I just try pass through. Wherever I went, my head was tucked into my chest. While I thought it was a smart idea at first, at least twice I've managed to pass my destination. That's when I began to learn a new technique known as 'glancing-up-from-time-to-time-so-your-face-doesn't-get-pounded-in-by-big-scary-jocks'… I need to work on a catchier title. Even when I managed to look up I was pretty sure my shoulders hid any part of my ears. That was a bonus of the new technique.

Classes were boring, lunch was boring, study hall was boring. For the school dad speaks so highly of, it feels like every other one I've been to. As expected, I've only been approached by anyone once. I'll be honest, it was terrifying. While leaving my third period chemistry class, I felt a hand grab onto my shoulder. I was ready to just curl up into a ball and accept my fate, but then I heard a voice. It was one of those that sounded way too nice to actually be sincere. I'm pretty sure the principal set him up to talk with me, because despite him not noticing me at all his first instinct was to say, "You're the new kid, right? I heard we have several classes together." All I could really think to do was shrug and nod my head, I hadn't noticed if he was in any of them. Now that he'd managed to squeeze his way to walk next to me I could actually take note of his face. It was an okay face, I guess. His cheekbones were prominent and his eyes were a rich shade of brown, almost like a swimming pool full of dark chocolate. He smiled at me, still holding onto my shoulder as he offered a hand with the other. Unlike some prepared people, he had both hands free while my arm was busy clutching my binder and books to my chest. I can manage to shake his hand, but anything else was a no go. 

"The name's Neil Perry." He introduced, finally letting go of me and I can finally breath again. "Yours is Todd…"

I guess he was expecting me to fill in the blank, so I told him, "Anderson." 

The well expected wave of shock flew over his face, his mouth stood there agape for a minute. I half expected something to fly in there. "Like Jeff Anderson?" He asked, I dreaded it. I didn't say anything, but I nodded. I can't pull myself to lie to eyes like that.  
That's when the unexpected happened. "Well, I heard he's basically like a legend here. I wouldn't worry too much about it though, from what I hear every day there's a different legend." That's when he smiled at me and I felt like I was going to just chuck as I resorted to nodding and murmuring "ok". I kept my books close to my chest, only for him to tilt the stack down. "What class do you even have next hour?" "Uh… Latin." I manage out as I resort to clutching the pile back into position. Maybe, I prayed, just maybe he didn't have this hour. But alas, god likes to torture me. Neil lit up as he said, "I'm already heading there, just around this corner." I tried to keep my groans non-verbal as I simply followed him. 

The classroom was just about as dull as the others, basic white walls and a chalk board in the front of desks. Some, if not most, had already taken their seats. In the middle of the classroom was supposedly where all the magic was happening. In a square/circle formation, a group of boys sat there. Even Neil joined them to complete the ring around one exceptionally loud voice. I couldn't even see him yet over the slumped shoulders of guys much taller than me, but from what I could hear he must've been a big deal. How Neil wasn't the center of attention, I had no idea. I took my own preferred seat, the one closest to the door. Usually from there I can end up being the first one out of it and save myself the worry of being squished between the plethora of people. Looking up the class, I can tell it's going to be awhile. So, instead of doodling as I had the rest of the day, I listen in like the creep they think I am. I catch them mid-conversation.

"So, I look at her, and I'm like, 'Melanie, baby. I'm going to think about you each time the sun rises and sets, you will consume my mind. Never will I forget the time we spent together.' That's when we made out just outside the bus getting ready to drive me away from summer camp." 

"I can't believe you've kept the same girl for two years and only see her a week out of them."

"That's cause its bullshit, he makes it up every time."

"Wow, I'm genuinely hurt you'd think of me that way, Dickie. Why would I lie about my sweet Melanie?"

"I don't know, maybe it's cause you change her name every year." 

That's when I began to tune out once again. The last thing I need to hear about this late in the morning is some kid I never met's summer randevu, instead I open up my notebook. Already I have what looks like chicken scratch plaguing the boarders of my pages. Instead or erasing them in hopes of clean looking writings, I begin to add more to them. Maybe it'd be a doodle of a flower or a few words, whatever they were they'd inevitably turn into scribbles that matched the others. Maybe some of them even hid embarrassing names that seemed to slip from my pen, no one has to know about them but me. 

With the bell ringing and class beginning, I don't really remember what happened. I was never really the best at Latin in my old school, no surprise I was probably bad at it here too. What I do remember was after class, always after class. Instead of just one boy approaching me, it was that group of them. As I sat patiently at my desk, neatly trying to stack my books where I could hold them, I looked up only to be met with what felt like a million eyes. Glancing over them made me feel as if I was in some sort of arena, the devious smile a couple of them wore wasn't that reassuring either. "So, you're Todd." The one I suspected to be the gang leader in this situation said. As usual, all I could do was nod slowly as if I was really unsure of myself. Today was really a stress on my neck muscles. As if it was an invitation, he began to lean against what little real estate my desk had to offer. "Okay, good. The name's Charlie Dalton, Charles, worst nightmare, whatever seems to fit for you." Before I could say anything, he continued to introduce me to his posse (that's a word people still use right?). A hand waved over the kid with glasses, "Steven Meeks, the brain." He saluted me with two fingers. Charlie's wave switched to a point towards the tallest, "Gerard Pitts, the other brain." He offered a hand for me to actually shake. That hand swooped back around to the boy also actually clutching books, "Knox Overstreet, the straight." The small fit of 'hey's and shoves took over, it was hard not to give at least a small laugh. Even Charlie was snickering like a juvenile at this point before waving a passive hand towards the only familiar face. "And you already met Neil." That chiseled jaw line tilted up toward me, I tilted my softer one back. It didn't flow as naturally as his did, luckily no one seemed to notice. 

"Considering the fact that you're over here all by your lonesome, we were wondering if you were going to be free during study hall?" Charlie asked, and if I'm being completely honest I sort of panicked. If there's anything past school experiences had taught me, when this group of kids comes up to you and as you if you're free you don't agree. All they're going to do is haze you like in some sort of fraternity. The last thing I wanted to do today was sit on ice blocks or be paddled for friendship. So, I answered, "Actually… I think I might have to go to the library, she's restocking books and needed help so… yeah." At least when I said that they didn't try and push anymore. Meeks simply shrugged, "Maybe you can tomorrow." It was a simple reaction, usually when I say no to situations like this in my head they continue to prod until I snap and end up snapping my bones. "Maybe." I simple added, and as if it was perfect timing the bell rang.

The rest of the school day was forgettable at best, miserable at worst. It's already been decided by the kids in my gym class that I like to stare at them while they're changing. First day in and at least twenty kids are circulating the suspicion that I like guys. If it counts for anything, I would never look at the guys in that hour. They all either smell like a seventh grader hiding their b.o. with cheap body spray or are ripped jocks to the point where it looked like they could crush my ribs by just looking at me hard enough. Because of that, I haven't tried telling them off for it yet. I would like to keep all parts of me intact. 

Day One? Successful, I guess? I wasn't really social or out of the ordinary, I guess I mostly just blended in for the most part. That's what I wanted to do, and it's going to stay that way.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 2/175  
The second day is always a little less eventful than the first, no matter what it is. At least now I'm starting to adjust to getting up earlier. After a whole three months of staying up until three in the morning watching reruns of the Golden Girls and never leaving the house, it's probably best that progress is being made to keep me from becoming some sort of recluse. Then again, my bed is always way more comfortable in the morning than it is any other time of the day. Can I fake sick on the second day or is that against the rules? 

I didn't even try and push my luck with that today, instead I unwillingly roll out of bed and head down the hall. There's no use in telling my bathroom exploits again, you've heard it once you've heard it a million times. Take a leak, brush my teeth, judge myself in the mirror for a little bit, and carry on my business. I've always assumed that's how everyone my age starts the day. Getting dressed is a little easier, everyone's expectations are lowered by day two which makes it acceptable to break out the sweatpants. Despite the array of clothes my mom has shoved into my closet for the sake of "back to school shopping" and getting me to look more "presentable", I reach for the same pair of pants that I do nearly every day. They're all basically the same brand, all in a different color. I have to have some sort of variety in my wardrobe. Then I pull over a hoodie that fits just big enough to make me forget I live in this weird, lumpy meat sack for the next eight to ten hours. 

Another perk of the second day is how easy it is to bypass the uncomfortable, breakfast table conversations. Ever since Jeff went off to college, it seemed that every single one of mine and dad's "talks" are about why I'm not like either of them. Skipping breakfast was just another way to skip the talk about sports and my life after school and where I'm going to college. So, I make a b-line for the sidewalk in front of my house. Simply glancing down the street makes me feel ancient. Anyone else waiting for the bus was more concerned with who was going to play the mom in house and where there coloring book has gone to. I contemplate if I should walk, but I know the second I head towards the school the bus is going to pass by me. Not to mention the fact that, as I said yesterday, it's the middle of August. Once I start walking, I'm going to start sweating. And once I start sweating, I'll start to smell bad. And once I stink, that fact will spread around the school like the plague and I'll forever be known as "the smelly Anderson brother". It's a vicious chain of events. 

So, I catch the bus. 

The walk inside was better. I didn't feel as if everyone was a complete stranger, there were some but it wasn't as is I wandered onto a different planet. As much as those cliché introductory games teachers make you play in public schools leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, at least it led me to learn the names of almost everyone in my classes. On the con side of things, now everyone knows that I exist. 

I never understood the urge to stand out. If I could melt and just blend into the background of the halls I would be more than happy to, if someone's eyes are on you their expectations are immediately either lowered or risen. The harsh reality of having a cool older brother who is idolized to this extreme is that everyone has this heightened expectation of you. Everyone is expecting me to show up and be this amazing guy who knows how to woo the girls and gets straight A's on every single report card he's ever received and joins all the clubs he can get a flyer for. I'm not that kind of guy, so all I can really do at this point is disappoint. 

Some people, I believe, has finally got that memo. While others still managed to push forward in the hopes that I'll miraculously turn out to be this god among men and try to hang out with me. At lunch, the guy I was talking about yesterday sat next to me as soon as he got his tray. While I was busy pushing around styrofoam meatballs in this sort of tomato mush, I look up and notice the whole group had also joined in. They were talking among themselves, mindless nonsense about their summer vacations and what happened in third hour trig. It was hard not to watch them like some sort of nature documentary; see the Charlie Dalton in his natural habitat. Watch as the Gerard Pitts dares him to snort salt from a packet through a straw that was already in his milk. Now see as he begins to wale in pain, fascinating. 

After a moment, my eyes landed on the one who sat next to me. Neil. It felt as if he was three feet taller than me, but I'll blame that on the fact I'm slouched over in my typical formation that allows me to curl up like an armadillo if need be. Finally, I attempt to speak up, "I-I- "My voice cracks. Great move, vocal cords. Keep it up, proud of you. Collecting myself and taking a breath in and out, I try again. "Am I sitting at your usual table or something?" 

Neil just shakes his head, giving that stupid little smile that makes me feel like I'm going to blow chunks. That one that just fits so perfectly on his lips, it's not too wide or toothy. That upturn of his lips as he answers the question, "No, why?" 

Oh, how I wish I could easily answer that. If only I could just bring up the fact that I'm too quiet for a group of rowdy boys to want to sit next to me. If only I could tell them I'm not some sort of cool spawn of Jeff's that would live to carry on his legacy. If only I could tell him that I'm not even a week into this new school and there's already rumors circulating about me and tying himself to me would only make that worse. Instead of making those wishes come true, I resort to shrugging. "Just wondering." I'm surprised he even heard me above the ruckus the rest of the table was causing. Now Charlie was trying to get the others to snort the salt in the worst method of peer pressure yet; telling them how much it stings and how he thought his nose is bleeding. For a moment Neil's attention was caught on that, as everyone's was. That was until he turned back to me and asked, "Are you going to actually be in study hall or are you ditching again?" "Maybe, I don't know… Depends on if I need to go back to the library or not." I probably sounded completely socially incompetent, which is because I am. Instead of leaving me be as I always hope he will, Neil presses on. "C'mon, she can't have that many new books to unload. Our library budget is around fifty cents and a toothpick." Simply, I shrug. I don't know the financial stability of this school, as far as I'm concerned, the librarian has thousands of dollars to blow on cheaply written young adult novels. That seems to be all that's really in there. 

At least now Neil has someone joining in with him, with Meeks right across the table nodded. "Besides, we don't really do anything in there. It's basically an hour to get help on homework- "Charlie butted in, as it seemed to be routine. "Copy homework." Meeks sighed before continuing, "or you can just blow off the entire period like some people." He averts his attention to the boy seated next to him. It was better than having all three of them look at me, because when more than two of them have their attention on you it felt as if the entire group was staring. 

"I mean, you've gotta show up eventually." I head from Neil, still wearing that expression. That devious look in his eye that made me want to slap and kiss him at the same time? It brought on a confusing emotion. I couldn't look him in the eyes, it just felt weird as if it was some sort of pact. "I might be there, I might not." I added, end of discussion. The lunch period had to end at some time and it just so happened to there. 

I lied to Neil, I didn't show up for study hall and I wasn't in the library. My time was spent in the bathroom stall, I wouldn't dare use it. Instead I was seated on a toilet lid, hiding out until I could go to my next class. In the meantime, I took out my pen and decided to do some minor vandalism. It could pass some time. It always seemed that bathroom walls had the best potential for writing. Be it a number asking for a good time or a crude drawing of a penis, everyone seemed to get in on the action. So, with my permanent marker in hand I began what could only be described as a haiku. This is what happens when you take away your son's notebooks, you end up with a hooligan like me. 

"Stuck in the bathroom,  
Trying to skip this hour.   
Not thinking of you." 

Poetic, slightly romantic, definitely unimportant. As far as I'm concerned, by Monday this will end up washed off by the janitor or scribbled out by someone who doesn't want to think about love when in the stalls. 

Just the kind of thing I want to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the more I write for this, the more unhealthy Todd's actions become and the more I feel like I'm putting Todd in my younger self's shoes?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever trying to publish a fan fiction, let alone write for something as complex as Dead Poets Society. I just really wanted to try my hand at this, throw my scraps of AnderPerry garbage into the void and see if it sticks. Maybe I will continue this, maybe not. It all depends on how well this goes over and how much I like this concept when I come back to it. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcomed and very much appreciated!!


End file.
